


Throwaway

by Hezaia



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 14:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20909234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hezaia/pseuds/Hezaia
Summary: throwaway1. Something designed or likely to be discarded after use.In hindsight, Red should've turned on his heel and run while he still could. Because getting involved with the Order and the whole exorcist business? So. Not. Worth. It.





	Throwaway

**Author's Note:**

> A couple of months ago, someone read a recent chapter of DGM and said something along the lines of "Ah, why didn't Cross just leave Allen with the Order?! He could've been happy there!" and I found myself sitting there like "...Doubtful."
> 
> And so, this fic was born. It didn't exactly turn out like I had expected, but now it's done at least?

**-o0o-**

There was a saying not to trust anyone farther than one could throw them, but it allegedly meant not to trust anyone at all. In either case, whoever had made this up had definitely had the right idea; Red could throw most people a fair bit of distance, but that in itself did not mean that he trusted any of them.

He had, at one point in time, chosen to place his trust in certain individuals, and it would suffice to say that he was suffering for it now. Back then, he had been too starved – for food as well as for approval – to properly consider what might come after. He had thought that as long as he had food in his stomach and a purpose in life, that would be enough. But now…

Now they dared to question his loyalty, after he had fought and bled and nearly died for them multiple times over?

Now they dared to whisper and regard him with fear or scorn, suddenly professing that they had known it all along; that Red had been untrustworthy and that they had suspected him of secretly spying on them all along.

Like, spying? Really? And just who was Red supposed to be working for and reporting to? The side he had sided with had turned on him and pronounced him a traitor, throwing him into a cell and scheduling him a date with the freaking Inquisition, and the other side, well− Red had sabotaged their Ark and all that, foolishly letting the Order into it and not considering what might come of it. No, no, Red had been a good little soldier; he had captured the enemy vessel and brought it back to his masters, Akuma Plant and all.

Said Akuma Plant – otherwise known as ‘the Egg’ – had been one of the not-so-unfortunate casualties that time when the European Headquarters had been infiltrated and then attacked by the Noah Lulu Bell and her little army of Akuma.

There had been plenty of other casualties, of course, and some rather unfortunate ones at that; a shitload of scientists had died or been turned into Skulls. Red had known quite a few of them personally, some of them quite well. They had been decent guys too; most of them, at least. But now they were either dead or as good as dead; Red had grieved them far more than he had certain others.

Supposedly, Red was in this cell because he had committed murder; he technically had, just not the one he was in there for.

Of course, Red had to agree that he probably had a motive. But, given just how many people Cross had screwed over through the years, there had to be more of them out there, and likely a few within the upper echelons of the Order as well. But no, no one would acknowledge this, even if a few of them were bound to be smart enough to figure it out – that Red was a scapegoat, not the actual perpetrator.

But who even cared at this point?

Red was alone, friendless, cold, and quiet. He was very much like before, except less beaten. The hunger also didn’t bother him, even though it probably should; Red was still recovering from recent stab injuries, so…

He wasn’t scared. He didn’t shout or cry out or complain loudly about the unfairness of it all. It hadn’t stopped the beatings back then, and it wouldn’t stop anything now.

Red leaned his head back and closed his eyes. If he had to die anyway, then why prolong the suffering? By dying now, he would surely save both sides the trouble of having to off him. It would also probably annoy them a whole lot, not being able to torture him for all that sensitive info he didn’t really have.

Except Red didn’t really want to die. All the effort he had put into staying alive would simply go to waste then, if he died here. It was like getting full and then puking it all up again; wasteful.

Coming to think of it, Red had managed to keep his lunch, even after stumbling upon the scene of Cross Marian’s alleged murder. Maybe he should’ve put more of an effort into pretending; he could probably have gotten away with ruining that Pompous Special Inspector’s shoes, possibly even his suit. To think that he had missed out on this kind of once-in-a-lifetime opportunity; it was indeed quite regrettable.

Then again, Red regretted a whole lot of things he had done in his life. Because, if not for certain choices, then Red could have been literally anywhere else doing literally anything else right now. Maybe he could even have been working on negotiating a timeshare with that ‘Fourteenth’ guy that supposedly lived inside his head? Because, while Red was not terribly receptive to the idea of having his body permanently hijacked, he was beginning to become more and more open to the idea of sharing it.

Like, people already seemed to believe that ‘the Fourteenth’ had already taken over and that he had attacked Cross Marian in a murderous rage after the man had effectively revealed his hiding place to the Vatican. And, had such really been the case, then Red would have considered it perfectly justified; _he_’d be pretty damned pissed too if his long-term plans got wrecked because some chain-smoking alcoholic couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

However, as things were, Red was pretty sure that ‘the Fourteenth’ wasn’t responsible, at least not this time around, and that Red was not responsible by proxy. Because, on the night in question, Red had not left his room, and his watchdog Howard Link should have been able to vouch for him. That is unless they earnestly believed that Red had opened up a Gate while in the bathroom, assassinated Cross Marian, disposed of the body and come back without as much as a speck of blood on him within the kind of timeframe that was considered acceptable for brushing one’s teeth.

Of course, it was entirely possible that they supposed he had had an accomplice. Perhaps they believed that Red had somehow conspired with Cross Marian’s custom-made golem, Timcanpy? The thing had after all started hanging around him sometime around the whole Ark incident, so perhaps they thought Red had convinced the thing to assist in the assassination?

Like really, what was up with that golem thing anyway? After his years with the Order, Red had had his fair share of interactions with regular Order-issued golems, and as such, he could tell that this ‘Timcanpy’ thing was a definite anomaly.

First there was the growing and shrinking thing, and then, naturally, there was the fact that the thing had teeth. On more than one occasion, Red had seen the thing happily gobbling up significant quantities of food. Like, did the thing have an actual appetite and stomach or something, or did it just have itchy teeth? And to what extent were golem sentient? Should they be considered machines or living things?

Considering recent events, Red could pretty safely say that it had not just sentience but sentimentality as well. Could other conclusions be drawn, considering the scene Red had stumbled upon; Timcanpy cuddling with dried bloodstains?

As for what the golem was up to these days, Red honestly didn’t know. But, in case he had really managed to bond with the thing in the way that had been alleged, then Red kind of hoped the thing would develop a taste for human flesh and chew that Special Inspector Bastard’s damned face off.

It was a pretty funny thought actually.

“Hah.”

Seriously though, what a way to go.

**-o0o-**

In hindsight, Red had made a whole lot of mistakes in his life.

Granted, he was hardly the only one that had screwed up, but even so, Red had his own list.

At the very top was the mistake of getting involved with a certain mad clown, because things had definitely spiralled from there. And considering the shitty life Red had led before that, that was really saying something.

But no, Red must have suffered a temporary leave of sanity, to allow himself to get caught up in that madman’s pace. Actually, coming to think of it, it was probably because Red had already been on his last ropes at the time; the hunger, hurt, cold and exhaustion had left him with few defences against the sudden warmth.

And so, he had followed the clown into town and disregarded the warnings.

Then they had gone back to the circus, and then that other clown bastard had come.

And then Red had been caught up in his rage and then−

Then that mad clown – Mana – had gotten in the way, and−

Red should really just have walked away and cut his losses early on.

While in town, he should have run off and hidden. Perhaps he could even have found sanctuary in some church, at least until the circus had moved on. Red wasn’t anything special after all, and thus, it would have been unlikely for the Ringmaster to put much effort into finding him if he ran off. The Ringmaster and others had made it perfectly clear after all; Red was effectively useless, just another mouth to feed… except Red didn’t even get fed all the time now, did he?

In any case, Red really should have turned back then. He shouldn’t have stayed, and he shouldn’t have kept on hitting him – Mana – but faced with such an infuriating person, how could he stop?

The last of the top three mistakes was probably going back to the Order after he had been declared missing in action. Like, in hindsight, it would have been such a great opportunity to just play along with the notion that he had been killed along with the rest of his party. After all, considering this whole situation with Cross, they clearly didn’t let the lack of a body prevent them from drawing certain conclusions, so−

There was a hand on his face and another on his hair. Was it a dream?

There were voices too, speaking in hushed tones. They sounded vaguely familiar. But why would he dream of them? Or rather, why would they visit him in his dreams? To laugh? To torment him?

Red forced his eyes back open.

Road Kamelot was there, and behind her, there was Tyki Mikk.

“What are you doing here?” Red asked.

“What does it look like we’re doing?” Road Kamelot said, angling his face towards her own. “We’re here to get you out.”

“…To take me out, you mean?”

“To dinner?” Tyki Mikk quipped. “Sure. Glad to see we’re on the same page here.”

“Huh?”

**-o0o-**

There was supposedly some saying, ‘don’t look a gift horse in the mouth’ or something to the like. Red wasn’t entirely sure about what was really meant by that, but he was pretty sure it could be applied to this kind of scenario somehow.

Freed from his restraints, Red got to his feet, bracing himself against the nearest wall. He found himself remarkably unsteady however and must have looked the part as well, because a disorienting second later, he was no longer standing.

“Allen,” Road said. “Where should we take you?”

Ah, that damned name again. How many times would Red need to tell them not to call him that for them to get it? Then again, wrong name aside, the fact they actually bothered to ask was touching, if only slightly. Still, in regards to destinations he wanted to visit, nothing really came to mind, so− “Surprise me.”

And that was how Red ended up at some recently opened cabaret in Paris that had a red windmill on the roof.

**-o0o-**

It was a strange experience, to be perfectly honest. There were a lot of dancers and other entertainment, featuring scenes not too far from those Red recalled from his time at the circus. There were even clowns; there was a comedic act featuring two of them. They appeared to be quite anticipated and appreciated by the audience, but Red really couldn’t say the same. He found the mere sight of them sickening.

**-o0o-**

“Say…”

“What?”

“What do you plan to do now, Red?”

What now, huh? Well, at least they seemed to have learned his name at this point, and remembered to use it too. Still− “Plan? I was honestly thinking about starving myself to death hours ago, so what makes you think I’ve made any plans since?”

For all that they were supposedly callous killers, the pair clearly reacted and with seeming concern at that. Like, wasn’t that rich, that Red’s enemies seemed the most concerned about his wellbeing?

“…If you don’t have any plans, then why not come home with us?”

Hah. Yeah, right. “Not that I didn’t appreciate the rescue, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t really for my sake. Like, I don’t know what happened in-between that guy and the rest of you, but even someone as dumb as me can figure out that leaving him with the Order wouldn’t be ideal. I don’t really get it though… from your perspective, shouldn’t killing me be the best option? I mean, you obviously can’t leave me at the Order, and if you bring me home, well… I’m pretty sure you guys know better than I do what happened last time that guy attended a family reunion. This leaves letting me swim freely, which I also think your side would like to avoid, and killing me outright before I can become an even greater problem. In addition to being a traitor, I’m supposedly some great spy, so maybe I’ve got some cache of hidden supporters somewhere, and I figure you’d probably want to keep me way from them so… Killing me is really the only viable option as far as I can see. No hard feelings or anything though, since I got a decent last meal out of the deal. As for the mealtime entertainment… it kind of sucked and made me relive a bunch of traumatic childhood memories. I had almost managed to forget about just how much I hate−”

“Red.”

Red stopped and shifted his gaze back from the street, and what he saw made him stop and stare in confusion. “Why are you crying? It’s the truth.”

The look he got for that was almost angry.

Tyk Mikk on the other hand just gave an exasperated sigh. “Well, this conversation is getting us nowhere…”

Indeed, it wasn’t. Still− “Was it supposed to go anywhere?”

Apparently, it was, going by the Gate that suddenly appeared beneath his feet.

**-o0o-**

In hindsight, maybe he should have expected this.

There was no choice, only the illusion of such.

Living with the Order and fighting for their cause had been easier if one viewed it as one’s calling; to save and protect and all that. He had fought to protect his new place in the world, fought to fulfil his purpose and to protect people along the way. He had struggled and fought and fought and fought and fought, and yet, where did this lead him?

“Ah!”

Red might not have had much of a memory when it came to names and his sense of direction left a whole lot to be desired, but when it came to other characteristics, he rarely forgot the faces or voices of anyone that had managed to make something of an impression on him.

“There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Allen~”

That name again. That accursed name. Still, it was better than the alternative. “What do you want?”

He received a positively tearful face at that. Even after his experiences these last couple of days, he found it difficult to accept that this cry-baby of a man was in fact another facet of the Millennium Earl. Moreover, it was the very same madman of a clown that Red had beaten up on that fateful day at the circus.

Allegedly, the man’s condition was unstable. At times, he reverted back to his old identity as ‘Mana’ and started wandering, searching.

In hindsight, this kind of thing made a lot of sense. Like, while the Order most definitely had resources, so did the enemy, and Red had always wondered why the Earl hadn’t launched an attack on any Black Order headquarters up until very recently. Then again, one or a few members of the Noah family could probably have gotten the job done, given enough determination and the element of surprise.

Granted, there was probably the whole thing with the supposed Heart of Innocence and whatnot, so keeping the Order around and directing their attention towards it had likely been a plot to find it and whatnot but… why did it matter again?

**-o0o-**

That whole trust thing aside, there was obviously loyalty, and much like trust and respect, loyalty was something that was to be earned, not demanded. Moreover, it was a two-way street and all that.

Red found himself in a new place, namely at the North American Branch, one of the few Black Order branches that he hadn’t actually visited before. Johnny and Tup from the Science Division had originally been from there, and while Red hadn’t exactly bothered to ask why they had transferred out of this place originally, he most definitely didn’t question it. Because, fancy structures and mechanisms aside, the place was admittedly unpleasant, and the management did little to improve the general atmosphere. Then again, this was effectively a hostage situation, wasn’t it?

“Well, what can I say?” He shrugged mildly. “I guess _fuck you_ would be a start. And fuck you in particular.”

He directed the latter part of his statement to the Inspector Bastard that just happened to be among the hostages.

“For the record, I didn’t kill Cross Marian, and I’m pretty sure the guy just up and faked his death because he’d had enough of running your foolish errands. As for that Suman Dark, yeah, I killed him, but he sold us out so he had it coming. I only regret snapping his neck; he didn’t deserve such a quick and easy death.”

Suman Dark might’ve had his reasons, but did they matter? − Not in Red’s book.

In any case, Red might have acted in anger but in the end, he had shown the man far more mercy than he had deserved; Suman Dark had betrayed his comrades and Innocence, and would have ended up as a Fallen One, had Red not finished him off beforehand.

Still, the man was long dead now, so who even cared?

Also, nobody seemed intent on interrupting his monologue, so Red might as well go on and say what was on his mind for once.

“And, speaking of regrets, I hate to say it, but that Cross bastard might’ve actually been onto something. Like, I could’ve avoided so much if I had just not gone back after all that, since a lack of a body hasn’t stopped you from drawing conclusions before. But I came back and I fought for you. I was your perfect little soldier, loyal to a fault. Like sure, maybe that whole ability to hijack the Ark thing was a bit too suspiciously convenient to disregard, but it’s not like I knew I had it in the first place! And wasn’t it oh so useful? It must’ve saved you a fortune on logistics, so I guess I can see why denouncing me as a traitor didn’t stop you lot from using the thing. I can’t help but feel a bit peeved though. I brought you back the Egg, the Akuma Plant, instead of destroying the thing – Wasn’t that Cross Marian’s mission by the way? Or was it just a convenient excuse to see if he could lead you guys to ‘the Fourteenth’? Well, in any case, I brought it back, letting you lot study it, and instead of doing something useful with it like create something like a cure for Dark Matter sickness, you lot decided that another round of human experimentation was the way to go. So, congrats. Great job, you guys. You’ve actually managed to one-up the enemy on this one.”

Saying this, Red moved along the row of petrified scientists. There, amongst unfamiliar faces, he found Johnny and yanked him, then bounded all the way to where Kanda was only just recovering from having his brains messed with by the newly Awakened Wisely, the resident busybody mind reader of the Noah family.

“And now,” Red finished. “It’s my turn to one-up each and every one of you.”

**-o0o-**

“You!”

“Me. Are you gonna put that down or are you looking for a date with ‘the Fourteenth’?”

“Tch.”

“You guys, stop fighting already! Right?!”

Surprisingly enough, that made Kanda back down, which was good, because Red had not just pulled a daring escape just to be eviscerated by Mugen. Then again, given Kanda’s presence at the previous scene, maybe there had been some sort of intention to see Red stabbed? Speaking of presences at the scene though…

“So, who’s that?” he asked, pointing to the body that he had somehow managed to drag along, likely due to said body’s proximity to Kanda. Another of the Order’s human experiments?

“He’s Alma Karma,” Johnny said, and going by the way that Kanda immediately stiffened, the name – and by extension the person – likely held great significance.

“Why’s he here?” Kanda asked, and his voice sounded very dangerous. He didn’t aim the question towards Red though, so…

Johnny licked his lips, clearly nervous. “From what we were told, scientists at the North American Branch infused the remnants of the destroyed Akuma Plant in his cells and then used them on members of the C-C-CROW unit, which c-created the Third Generation Exorcists.”

Kanda’s aura immediately darkened. Even Red felt like inching away from him. That said though− “Third Gen? Does that mean that there was a Second Gen at some point?”

The somewhat despairing look Johnny sent Kanda’s way told Red a lot more than he really needed to know.

**-o0o-**

“You know,” Red said, eventually. “Junior and I always used to joke about how you had to have been grown in a lab or something. Not sure if _he_ knew anything, but I can’t say that _I_ expected it to be true. I was thinking more like inhumane experiments on orphans or on blood relatives of Innocence accommodators, but… we already know just how splendidly those worked out. I can’t say this is any better though. But, considering the timespan and all, doesn’t that make you like nine or something?”

Actually, coming to think of it, Red was in a pretty similar situation, wasn’t he? Like, people kept insisting that he was in fact someone named Allen Walker, who had allegedly been a supporter of ‘the Fourteenth’ thirty-some years ago? The Earl’s sentient hitlist had been particularly stubborn about it.

“But never mind all that though,” Red said, giving a dismissive wave. “You’re free to leave, you know? If I were you, I’d take this as an opportunity to get out of this mess. I wish I could do the same myself, but… I’m gonna get caught again sooner or later, and no matter which side catches me, things wouldn’t end well for either of you if you got caught alongside me. Choose a location, and I’ll try to open up a Gate as close to it as I can. But once you’ve gone through, I’d suggest you hit the ground running. Consider it a parting gift and whatnot, because if you see me again after this, I might no longer be me.”

Kanda scoffed. “So, you’re just giving up, huh?”

“…Giving up?” Red blinked. Then he shrugged mildly. “Well, maybe it looks that way to you, but that’s not what I’m doing. In any case, I guess that I’ll just−”

“I’m coming with you,” Johnny said.

Red looked at him as if he’d just grown a second head.

**-o0o-**

Odd as it might sound, Red had always envied Kanda, at least to a certain degree. Like, sure, Red had always figured that the guy had probably gone through some pretty traumatic shit, but he had envied him nonetheless, and the reason for this was simple: Red coveted something that Kanda had. And it wasn’t really the healing factor or anything practical like that, but something else entirely: It was the loving affection of General Froi Tiedoll.

Granted, life wasn’t fair, but why was it Kanda and not him that got picked up as one of Tiedoll’s disciples and endowed with a name at that; the grumpy bastard had gotten to be something more than just Yu; he’d gotten to be someone who had a surname and was treated well by the most humane one of the exorcist generals. Red meanwhile, Red had been dumped on General Socalo, and things had really gone downhill from there.

Like, sure, it had supposedly been to temper him or whatever, to make him stronger and whatnot. Perhaps there had been a fear that a kinder master such as Tiedoll or Yeegar would have been reluctant to be harsh on him, even for the sake of making him strong in order to fulfil his supposed destiny as the ‘Destroyer of Time’? Perhaps there had been other reasons too, but the result had been pretty much the same.

Like, sure, Red had still gone back to the European Branch Headquarters on occasion; he had even considered it his home, even knowing about the fucked-up shit that had gone down there in the past. Because the past was the past, and since Komui Lee’s ascension, conditions had improved greatly for everyone. The man had even asked Red if he wanted to him to change the records and give him a last name. Unfortunately, this was far past the point when Red had thought that those things mattered.

Like, Junior obviously didn’t see the need of a last name, and he didn’t seem to see the need for a permanent first name either; when Red had first met him, he’d been Deak, and later, he’d come back as Lavi.

Red was still Red though, which was ironic, considering how it wasn’t really a proper name to begin with. Still, he had heard it for so many years that it had stopped mattering; it was a name, and it was one that he himself had chosen to keep, perhaps as a reminder of what once was. Actually, Red wasn’t really all that sure as to why he had kept it, and at this point, it was hardly relevant.

He would rather be Red than anyone else; he would rather be Red than someone like Allen Walker.

But, getting back to the main point: Red had always envied Kanda. He had also envied Lenalee, at least to a certain degree; Komui had gone into the Order and worked his way to the top for her sake and her sake alone. Of course, this by no means diminished anything the man had accomplished once he had reached the top; Red might not have believed in God, but he had believed in Komui Lee.

As a matter of fact, Red still believed in Komui Lee, but now, he was far more aware of the man’s limitations. They didn’t make him respect the man any less though.

As for someone Red didn’t really respect, there was Cross Marian, Red’s first real contact with the Order. Like sure, maybe the man had thought he was doing Red a favour when he had dropped him off with an Order supporter and left without even making a report. Red had even believed this at one point in time.

These days however, Red’s feelings on the matter were far more ambivalent. On one hand, he was grateful, and on the other, fairly resentful. Like, Red didn’t exactly covet the position as Cross Marian’s apprentice, but that in itself didn’t mean that it had felt great to be dropped off like a thing to be stored until it could be used to hijack an important piece of enemy infrastructure and then readily discarded once more.

With supporters like that, it really made sense that ‘the Fourteenth’ campaign had failed. Then again, when it came to allies−

“Hey, Red, whatcha thinking about?”

“Nothing much,” Red answered quite honestly, eyes flickering briefly towards the weird human-Akuma hybrid that was the current Alma Karma before returning to the task at hand. “I’m just thinking about how I ended up in this mess…”

−And failing to figure out ways of getting out of it with all his limbs intact.

Now Johnny, Johnny was simply far too persistent for his own good, and Kanda, Kanda seemed to have the impression that he now owed Red a significant debt for the whole Alma Karma thing, and that the only way in which said debt could be repaid was through Kanda acting as Red’s self-appointed bodyguard and whatnot.

Like, Red had tried to ditch the whole party more than once, and since that last time involving the Ark, he had barely been more than an arm’s length away from either of the Second Gen exorcists at any given time of the day. He’d tried to ditch them once in the middle of the night, and now he wasn’t even allowed to sleep alone anymore.

To be perfectly honest, there were days when Red felt a lot less like a saviour and a lot more like a prisoner. But… at least he didn’t have to worry about getting cold at night?

And as for ‘the Fourteenth’−

**-o0o-**

_“Allen, your allies suck.”_

_“Not your Allen, but go on.”_

_“I bashed his head in and he didn’t die.”_

_“Ah, no wonder Kanda was so grumpy this morning then.”_

_“What happened to Cross?”_

_“I dunno. Didn’t you kill him?”_

_“No.”_

_“Hah, called it.”_

**-o0o-**

−Red was still working on the whole timeshare thing.

**-o0o-**


End file.
